Hornet's Story
by PenInHand9
Summary: Kind of a prequel to the book. Alright, you know how the book kind of tells where Hornet came from? or at least how she met Scipio? Well forget EVERYTHING you read! This is my take on Hornet’s introduction to the thief lord, straight out of my brain.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Alright, you know how the book kind of tells where Hornet came from? (or at least how she met Scipio?) Well forget EVERYTHING you read! This is my take on Hornet's introduction to the thief lord, straight out of my brain.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Thief Lord.

The streets of Venice were alive with color. Flowers spilled from tiny wooden window boxes, lightly perfuming the salty air. Vendors with souvenirs for the eager tourist paced the archways as the masses poured around them. It was the middle of July, a balmy morning, but not too warm. The peak of tourist season. A shout rang out from the usual city noises.

"Stop! Thief!" A rather overweight, grey haired food vendor pushed through the crowd. His prey was a small skinny girl with a long brown ponytail. She wore a large worn coat, with a ragged blouse and a skirt that had seen far better days beneath. Her feet were bare, in her haste to get away, she had shed the far-too-large loafers she had found. In her hand was a small package, the one the vendor worked so hard to retrieve.

She ducked around a closed up shop and darted away from a mounted police. Finally, when her lungs began to flame, she had lost the furious vendor. The girl stopped at the foot of a crumbling statue of a winged lion, shedding the coat that was far too heavy for summer. However, she kept it close; night could grow chilly in the streets. Unwrapping the pastry, she took a greedy mouthful.

The girl was 14 or 15, she wasn't sure, and she had no name. At least, one that mattered anyway. She knew she had one once. A long time ago, when she didn't steal her meals or slept outside. A wave of sadness she always felt was pushed aside by her growling stomach. She was pale for a Venetian, with a long dark brown pony tail and sparkling brown eyes. Her dark lashes were long, her chin stubborn.

With a last swallow, the pastry was gone. The girl stood, shouldering the coat. She walked down the lane, wondering what to do now. The library was nearby… If the girl was said to love anything, it was books. Anything she could lay her hands on, she savored. Not that she found much. The only books she could really get at were in the library, which she could only stay in for ten minutes before an attendant saw her and through her out. There was one book she had in her possession that she treasured. Tucked in her coat pocket, it was a battered old paperback, The Little Mermaid by Hans Christian Anderson; that had traveled with her since before she could remember.

Sighing, the girl looked up at the setting sun, as it cast an orangey pink glow on the channel's waters. She would have to find a place to spend the night. Her old place, a notch in one of the cathedrals, had been found out by on of the church guards, who had given her a good scare and chased after her late last night.

Twenty minutes later, she settled for the wedge between a bridge and a set of steps off a less-than-busy road. Stuffing herself in and curling up in her coat, the girl read a few long memorized pages of her book before drifting off to sleep.

A/N: I know, kinda slow, kinda short, but bear with me. By the way, just saw the movie (Yea there's a movie. Who knew?), and let me tell you! Scipio and Prosper are HOT! Tehe. Anyway feel free to press the nice button that says 'leave a review' or whatever. Peace out.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Finally chapter 2 in the bag! Thanks for the review! (see that's singular _review_. There's a problem with that ppl!) Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own.

Drunken shouts and heavy footsteps woke the girl from her slumber. It was a shattering of glass that drove her from her cover. Three men were stumbling over the bridge toward her, all but one clutching a beer bottle. It seemed the third had thrown his, hence the shattering glass. Raucous laughter grated against her ears and the beerless man focused on her.

"What'da we harve her, boyzzz?" he slurred. He leered at her, showing yellowed teeth and nauseous breath. The girl turned to walk away, disgusted and a bit afraid, when she realized that she'd left her book behind. She whirled back around, only to be face to face with one of the drunks.

"Looky here, I think she likezzz me!" He grabbed her arm, a scar above his eye wiggling up and down with his brow. Now very much afraid, the girl tried to pull away. The grip only tightened. "Now thaz not vvery nizzze, girrrly," the scar face growled. "C-mere and say hellosss to uss gentlemen." He ignored the girl's protests and thrust her into the third man with an elaborately patched coat. He reached for her, and the girl thrust an elbow into his stomach.

"Oof! Whyya lil chit! Yell pay fer that un!" Stars shot into the girl's left eye as a heavy hand met its mark. She gasped in pain, then leapt onto the drunk, clawing at his face, survival on her mind. "Argh! Geroff! Get er off me!" Patch cried, but his friends only laughed and looked on, utterly amused and intoxicated beyond belief. Finally getting a grip on her, Patch shook her and raised another hand to strike. She tensed, eyes shut, waiting for the blow, which caused her not to see a shadow streak from the nearby ally, turning very solid as it collided with poor, drunk Patch. The girl squirmed from his grasp and fell to the street, scrambling away. From a slightly safer distance on the bridge, she turned to watch. A dark figure rolled from his momentum, leaving Patch in a heap. Then he sprang up, grabbed her wrist, and hauled her to her feet.

"Come on! We gotta move!" And with that he took off, the girl fighting to keep up with him. They left Patch and his two companions far behind to ogle after them.

Three blocks later, her rescuer finally stopped and turned back to her. In the dim light of the street light, she gazed wearily at him. He was a good head taller then her, with longish dark brown hair and a solid build. He wore a long black coat, but beneath it was a simple pair of jeans and a striped shirt. Out of his back pocket, a mask hung, black with a long beaked nose.

It was his expression that took her breath away. Dark eyes sparkled beneath his fringe of bangs and his mouth seemed to naturally quirk in mischief.

"You okay?" he asked in a mellow tenor voice, hints of a natural mocking tone were well buried in concern. The girl put a careful hand to her eye, wincing at the soreness. Definite shiner coming in.

"I'm alright." she replied mildly, glaring and cautious. Her life did not entail her to greet strangers warmly. Even if the _do_ save her... "Thanks," she added grudgingly. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"The streets are no place to wander at night. Why don't you run on home?" he said, parental tone heavy.

"What I do and where I go have no business with you," she replied stiffly. She marched past him, chin high.

"They do if I'm going to have to keep saving you. It'd be a bother if I had to keep following you." The girl froze and spun to face him. If looks could kill, the boy would've had no hope.

"Well that's a relief for you then because I DON'T need rescuing!" she shouted, then added a quiet "again," at his raised eyebrows. "Just who are you anyway?" The boy swept an elaborate bow.

"Scipio the Thief Lord, at your service, _signorina_." (a/n: signorina is 'miss' in Italian I think.) The girl eyed him in disbelief.

"Thief Lord? You can't be more than 16," she pointed out. Scipio scowled.

"And how old are you? 10?" he shot back, looking her up and down, making her very uncomfortable. (a/n: lets pretend I know how old she is)

"For your information, I turned 15 last week!" An angry and embarrassed flush colored her cheeks. The 'Thief Lord' lounged back on a pile of crates.

"I told you my name. Tell me yours." His question caught her off guard and her blush deepened when she realized the answer she had to give.

"I don't have one," she said defiantly.

"Well that's no good. We've gotta call you something."

"We?" she asked, pretty sure that they had been alone till now. He waved a hand in dismissal.

"You'll meet them later, don't get off topic." He stroked his chin thoughtfully, fingering a beard that wasn't there. "Hornet." he stated simply, looking pleased with himself. The girl snorted.

"Hornet?"

"Well, yea. I saw the way you went after that drunk. You certainly have a stinging personality. And, your hair."

"My hair," she said blankly, ignoring his other comments.

"Yea," he said, as if it were obvious. "It's long and almost pointed, like a stinger." She shook her head in amazement. _Boys_. She rolled the name around in her mind, amused. She could live with it. Nodding, she stuck her hand out briskly.

"Hornet it is." He shook the offered hand and smiled. 'Hornet', as she was now to be called, felt her stomach flip. _Great smile,_ she thought dazedly. Scipio looked at her a moment, then frowned a bit. He shook his head and, without warning, turned and began walking away. Startled a bit by his odd behavior, it took Hornet a moment to realize he was leaving her. "Hey, where are you going?" Looking over his shoulder, Scipio looked a bit surprised that she wasn't following.

"To the Star Palace."

A/N: They have names! You wouldn't believe how hard it is to write when none of your characters have NAMES. I tried to come up with some nicknames (heh, Patch). I think I might have put skip and hornet a bit too old, but o well. Remember, R&R!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: chapter three is now up and runnin. Much better work ppl on the reviewing! Thanks a bunch! Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own never did, never will.

By the time Scipio halted in his trek through the winding alleys of Venice, Hornet felt she could've fallen asleep on her feet. They stood in an old, rundown square, facing the boarded up door of a picture show. A broken neon sign read 'The Stella'.

Scipio stepped up to the door and rang the bell, which emitted a rather nasty buzzing noise. Hornet bit back the remark that no one would answer the door, when in fact, someone did.

"Oh, your back! Did ya bring us anything, Thief Lord? Who's _she_?" Before she knew it, Hornet found a pair of suspicious blue eyes squinting at her.

He was a scrap of a boy, with wildly spiked hair and crooked teeth. She noticed the hero worship on his face when he addressed Scipio.

"Not tonight, Riccio. This is Hornet," he said, nodding to her and speaking in a commanding tone that irritated her slightly. Hornet smiled and rolled her eyes. "She's going to be staying with us for a while." As he spoke, a single brow rose, turning the statement into a question. (a/n: I wish I could raise one eyebrow!)

Hornet took a deep breath, thinking hard. She had no where else to go. And Scipio, though a bit arrogant, seemed trustworthy enough, for all that he was a thief lord. Coming to her decision, Hornet nodded. Scipio grinned and started down the dim hallway.

Riccio had watched the exchange silently, out of the loop. Shrugging, he devotedly followed his leader, Hornet hesitantly following behind.

Scipio opened a door and stood aside, bowing Hornet through. "Welcome, to my Star Palace." The hallway opened up into a magnificent room that earned its name. It was large, with a high ceiling and a multiple of balconies. Old seats stood in neat rows, lining up in front of a small stage and curtain. The curtain took Hornet's breath away, long, graceful, blue velvet embroidered with glittering stars. The room itself showed signs of life. The balconies were laden with mattresses and blankets. Bits of food and crumbled wrappers littered the floor around the seats, and a broken down table held the remains of a meal. In the corner was a broken film projector with parts and tools scattered around it. A dark boy sat behind it, tinkering with it and occasionally letting out a string of curses when it wouldn't work. Riccio darted forward, bouncing into a seat.

"Mosca, we have a guest!" he called out. Mosca, stood, stretched, and walked over. He was tall, looked to be about 15, with a sturdy build. Black eyes sparked, his skin was the color of baking chocolate, and his black hair was short and tightly curled to his head. He smiled warmly, Hornet immediately felt comfortable. She held out her hand, he shook it firmly.

"I'm Mosca."

"Hornet." He nodded, then turn to Scipio, who stood close behind.

"Did you get the parts I need?"

"Sorry, I got a little… side tracked," he said, indicating Hornet. She blushed a dull red. Was she already causing problems? "I'll get them tomorrow night. Mosca is fixing the old projector," he explained to Hornet. "And Riccio," he raised his voice, including said boy in the conversation, "Is a pick pocket."

"What do I do?" Hornet asked.

"Do you know medicine?" he returned. Hornet shrugged. "We've a first aid kit but none of us know first aid. That is your job." Hornet smiled mockingly and snapped a salute. Scipio, or Skip, as she had deemed him in her head, laughed and put his hands on her shoulders, sending chills up and down her arms. With a weak smile, Hornet thought, maybe this wouldn't be so bad….

A/N: HAHA dar she blows! Anyway, I tried to match up the characters, but they're prolly more like the movie than the book. (timing ya know?) I like the idea of a brotherly relationship b/w Hornet and Mosca. …And I love Scipio in the movie. A lot. R&R!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry it's been so long! Writer's block'll kill ya. And thanx for all the review**_S!_** (see the nice big shiny S? yay!) Here we go again---

Disclaimer: I DON'T OWNI DON'T OWNI DON'T OWNI DON'T OWN

Hornet fidgeted in the blankets and lumpy mattress that made up her bed. It was a good deal better then sleeping on the streets, but something kept her awake. After changing positions for the hundredth time, Hornet realized what was bothering her. Her book! She had left by the bridge in all the excitement. She had to get it.

Rising slowly, Hornet crept past the still forms of Riccio and Mosca. Maybe that was what was keeping her awake as well. They snored horribly. Mosca's was low and droning, where Riccio made an odd sort of squeaking noise. Scipio didn't sleep at the Stella. Hornet found that odd, but didn't question the benefactor of her new home. Or, at least, the current roof over her head. Hornet, thrice as wary after her poor examples of home, was not sure whether to stay or not. The boys were nice… very nice… she thought dreamily of Scipio before shoving _that_ thought away. And after that episode with the drunken men, it would be awhile before she was brave enough to live on her own again.

But that was irrelevant. For the moment, all she needed to do was get the book back. She could figure out the rest later.

Opening the side door a crack, Hornet slipped out and hurried down the street. It was dark, the moon and stars couldn't pierce the angry clouds above. She tried to follow the twisting trail Skip led her through, but soon she was completely lost.

Wandering through the predawn fog, she growled her frustration. Why hadn't she simply waited for Skip to take her back? Hornet paused. Because she couldn't. That book was her only possession, it took her away from terribly real life to a place where true love existed and the bad guy always lost. Morals were black and white, and families loved each other. Father's loved their daughters and didn't…

Hornet furiously shook her head till her long hair whipped her face, a stinging reminder of the here and now. It was over. She had plenty to deal with without reminiscing.

Glancing around, Hornet found herself in the _piazza_. She had been there only yesterday, running from the vendor.

She ducked into the ally she had earlier, vaguely remembering landmarks as she made her way along. Left, right, dead end! Backtrack, left, straaaaaaaaaaight, right, there!

Hornet rushed across the bridge to the nook she had slept in. Compared to the mattress she had at the Stella, the hide away looked rocky and uncomfortable. Good thing I'm not staying here! she thought happily.

Scrambling around, Hornet searched for her book. There, lying forgotten in the very corner was the book, 'The Little Mermaid' title gleaming. She grinned, that had been close.

For comfort, she hugged it to her chest, inhaling the faint bookish smell of the pages. Assured that it was alright and ready to go back, Hornet carefully pocketed the book and stood.

Fate must have not been all that fond of her at that moment, because a fat cold rain drop landed square on her nose. Groaning, Hornet let her head fall backward as the sky opened up. After a moment of cursing said Fate, she ducked her head and ran back down the street, her bare feet slapping the wet pavement.

The rain was steady and hard, and in minutes Hornet was soaked. Panicking, she snatched the book out of the damp pocket and clutched it tightly to her stomach, bending forward so her body blocked the rain.

After several guessed turns and dead ends, Hornet stopped, panting. It was no use. Not only did she have no idea where she was, she couldn't see where she was going either. Wet bangs stuck against her forehead, her clothes were soaked through and heavy, and her skin pruned and goose-bumped from cold. Hornet shivered then looked at the book. It too was wet, and to her horror, ink as well as water began falling from it.

"No! No, please, no!" She watched in misery as the gleaming gold title began to run, swirling into the blurring picture of the mermaid. It was too late. The words -words that she had read over and over till her eyes burned- blurred, came together and formed rivers across the page. Sobbing, Hornet fell to her knees, then curled into herself, the inking running freely into her lap and on her hands. It was gone. Her source of comfort, her only escape from the world, was running off the street and into the gutter. Hornet cried for a long time, tears mixing with the steady rain, feeling a loneliness she never had felt before.

A/N: I wanted it to be dramatic, but I'm afraid it might've fallen flat. What d'ya think? And I'll try to get the next out quicker. R&R (hint try pressing the blue button next to the 'submit review' --funny stuff!)


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Here's the next chappie. I'm in a real descriptive mood so stay with me. Cookies to all who reviewed.

Disclaimer: I own the WORLD. But not the Thief Lord.

Hornet groaned and rolled over on the threadbare mattress. Wait, mattress? Hornet cracked one eye open. Moth-eaten theater seats loomed above her. She was back in the Stella. Closing her eyes, Hornet let the events of last night swamp her. She ached all over, her head felt waterlogged, and her clothes were cold and damp.

She would have drowned in her misery right then and there, had she not realized she was being watched.

Turning her head to the left, she blinked to see Scipio watching from the shadows. He kept his distance, a considering, guarded expression on his face. Wondering what secrets she was hiding, what past he had yet to hear. The things he had dismissed before, only because she had seemed a simple project, nothing of terrible complexity. He wasn't sure of what he was looking at now.

"Sorry bout the damp clothes," he ventured, "didn't think you'd like it if we changed you." Hornet blushed and nodded, but still met his eyes. The unspoken question hung heavily between them, both knowing it was there, neither sure how to bring it up. Finally Skip gave in. "Why'd you go?"

It should have been a simple answer for a simple question. But Hornet felt too worn to dance around, too tired to avoid the truth. She rooted around her bed, but knew since she had awakened that the ruined book was gone. She sighed and sat up.

"I had to get it back. But now it's gone." Hornet knew Scipio would make no sense of these words, but it was the only way she knew how to begin. Backtracking, she tried to explain a little better. "I had this- this thing- that meant a lot to me. I had left it at the bridge when those drunks came up, but I had to get it back. But then the rain started, really hard, and I couldn't save it. I tried, I really did, but it was no use…" Hornet picked at a loose thread in the weave of the blanket.

Scipio was quiet for a long moment, then pulled something from his pocket and examined it. Hornet still couldn't meet his gaze, so she didn't see what it was till he held it out to her.

She stared at the beaten cardboard and paper that barely hung together. The cover was unrecognizable, the binding falling apart, but it was hers. With hands that shook, Hornet took her beloved book from him. Hornet looked up at him. She saw confusion in his eyes, but she could also see him want to understand. Hornet looked back down at the book, giving a slightly twisted smile.

"It's not exactly the book itself that I loved so much. It was the story. I could read for hours back then and… escape life. Sometimes life seemed so hard. But in a book everything ends right. I- I can't really explain it better then that." Hornet felt tears on her face and was surprised. She thought her tears were used up already.

She lifted a hand to wipe them away, and found she was beaten to it. Scipio kneeled next to her bed, and with his thumb, he solemnly brushed away each salty drop. Hornet looked one last time at her book, then, as if in a burial, laid it to rest on the ground.

Scipio's hand lingered on her face. At his touch, Hornet felt shivers run through her body. Skip looked at her through concerned eyes, but there was something else, a nervous, boyish look. Unsure of himself. Hornet wondered what he was thinking. Then, she couldn't wonder anything, because his face was only inches away. And as she closed her eyes, the distance closed, and their lips met.

A/N: I love fluff, don't you? I know Skip's kinda quiet for himself but… yea. R&R!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I give each and every one of you permission to slap me for taking so long. I will try to be a better writer person from now on.

Oh yeah, I got a few complaints about me putting Scipio's nickname as 'Skip'. I know there was a nickname in the book, but I think it might have been 'Scip' not 'Skip'. Don't ask me.

Thanks for reviews and being patient with my slow self. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Thief Lord cause if I did you would all die of old age before it came out.

Hornet had never felt such a rush of emotions before. Excitement, happiness, confusion, exhilaration, and awkwardness- they all flew through her mind in an eye blink. Scipio's lips were warm against her's, sending shivers through her body. Hornet had never kissed a boy before; this was completely new territory for her.

The moment seemed to last forever, but all too soon, Scipio jerked away, looking startled at his own boldness. His cheeks flushed scarlet and he muttered incoherently before dashing out of the room.

Hornet was left alone in the huge star-studded room, staring in shock at the closed door. Gingerly, she felt her lips, expecting some big change in them. They were her same old lips, yet they still seemed to tingle, just the slightest.

She frowned, wondering what had caused him to dash off, worried that she had committed some horrible, unknown kissing-sin. Shakily, Hornet got to her feet, emotions in a fierce whirlwind inside of her. An extreme euphoria had settled around her after the kiss, but it was countered by the loss of her book and an extreme confusion at Scipio's departure.

Shaking her head, Hornet cleared her mind a bit, then realized she was standing in wet clothes. It took a few minutes of foraging to find a large bag of spare clothing. They were boys' clothes, varying in size, all in decent condition. Shrugging, Hornet pulled out a random t-shirt and pants that would accommodate her long legs.

Hesitant to change in the open, Hornet hid behind the velvet curtain and put on the dry clothes. It was a huge relief to be warm and dry once more.

Freshly changed, she looked at the room around her, unsure what to do with herself. Remembering the role she was supposed to assume, Hornet quickly found the cabinet of medicines. It was as old as the theater around it, paint peeling off, the doors tied together with strings.

Twenty minutes, three bruised knuckles, and several creative curses later, the string fell to the ground and the doors swung open. An assortment of bottles and bandages tumbled out. Luckily the small boy- what was his name? -Riccio's bed was beneath the cabinet; the bottles bounced half heartedly on it.

Hornet sighed and went about reading labels and organizing them back in the cabinet, being sure to memorize what was used for what. She itched to go to the library and look up more on the subject matter, but as her last little trip outside didn't go too well…

An hour later, the door swung open, and Mosca and Riccio stepped in. The clock on the far wall read 9 at night. Hornet blinked, she hadn't thought that much time had passed.

The boys gave a brief hello, then set about doing their own projects, Mosca lovingly tending to his old boat, Riccio examining the latest goods the thief lord had stolen.

"Isn't Scipio coming?" Hornet asked, feigning nonchalance. Mosca shook his head. Riccio was the one who explained.

"He said he was going on another raid. Won't be back for two days at least." With that he turned back to a magnifying glass with jewel-studded handle. Hornet, dumbstruck, sat down hard on her mattress.

Two days?

A/N: Heheheheheh, didn't see that one coming, did ya? Wasn't Mosca's thing he was fixing the boat (and not the projector like in the movie)? Or am I just going insane? Well hoped you enjoyed it. R&R!


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: dang it I did it again! Sorry guys, old habits are hard to break… I'd like to give a BIG thank you to those who are still stickin with me here. And for the reviews of course!

Disclaimer: I OWN THE THIEF LORD! Did that get your attention? Good, maybe now you'll pay attention now when I say, I don't own it!

"This is where the old fatso lives," Riccio informed Hornet as they trotted through the hordes of tourists exploring the streets of Venice. The 'old fatso' Hornet had learned, was Barbarosa, the pompous owner of a trinket shop, famous for its priceless souvenirs. Souvenirs, apparently that were supplied by the thief lord. Hornet was clutching a sack containing the last of the goods from the last raid, which she and Riccio would sell to the shop owner. The whole process was very bizarre to Hornet, who had stuck to the simplicity of pick-pocketing.

The very thought of Scipio made the girl both giddy and depressed; it had been nearly _three_ days now since he had run away from her. About two days, 18 hours, and 24 minutes actually, not that she was counting. Was it her fault that Mosca had insisted on buying her one of those cheap, plastic watches?

Luckily Hornet hadn't gone mad yet. She had plenty to keep her busy, including learning her way around the ancient city, a feat alone she felt was impossible to achieve. The boys had also shown her the ropes of the city-- who could be fooled, who could be intimidated, and who could beat you so bad you'd be lucky to wake up before your next birthday. Absorbing this information, Hornet felt that maybe she could survive Venice after all, though she still had much to learn. Today, however, was the first day she had been allowed to come along to Barbarosa's.

Riccio opened the glass door and a bell chimed. The store was somewhat empty at the moment, only a few determined tourists browsed the shelves.

The skinny boy walked ahead of Hornet, tugging at his shirt and straightening, trying to add inches to his five foot height. They rounded the corner, which revealed a ritzy little office as old as the antiques the shop sold. An overweight man with a ridiculously red moustache sat at the desk. Peering into a silver-wrought mirror, he carefully clipped at the moustache. Riccio turned and waggled his eyebrows at Hornet, causing her to stifle a giggle, then leapt up onto the desk.

"Good morning!" he yelled. Startled Barbarosa flinched, and the scissors flashed closed over half of his moustache. The red hairs fell onto the desk, which Riccio, snatched and stuffed into his pocket.

"YOU LITTLE—!" the shop keeper sputtered, clearly furious. Hornet jerked Riccio off the desk just as Barbarosa's fist slammed onto it. Riccio snickered and took a seat in front of the desk. A vein bulging in the shop keeper's forehead made Hornet wonder if he was going to have a coronary right there and then. After a deep breath, Barbarosa regained some of his composure, a slick smile pasted on his face. (A/N: say that 5 times fast, I dare ya) "Tell me you little hedgehog, did you have any reason to come here other than to send me to an early grave?" With a smirk, Riccio plunked the sack down in front of Barbarosa. The fat man's eyes lit up and he dug into the sack greedily.

Hornet, unimpressed with the man, spaced out on the proceedings, thinking once again about Scipio. She would have no idea how to act around him when he came back. Hornet gulped. If he came back. She almost groaned in frustration. When had her life gotten so confusing?

Her thoughts were interrupted by Barbarosa slamming a handful of money on the table. Hornet stared. She had never seen so much money in her life! Riccio cheerfully scooped it into the now empty sack and stood. He bowed, pulled a face, and walked away. Hornet glanced at Barbarosa, who was now banging his head steadily on the desk, then followed Riccio out to the street.

Back at the theater, Hornet collapsed on her mattress, listening to Mosca crowing happily over the money they had gotten. He and Riccio then fell next to her and the three of them passed the time dreaming and discussing about what they would do with the money. Riccio was just detailing his plans to buy the sweet shop nearby when a buzzer went off, alerting them that someone had come in the side door. Riccio stopped mid sentence, and jumped up.

"He's back!"

A/N: thank you, thank you, I love you all!


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Ooooh, I think this might be my best chapter yet! I'm sorry if my characters are a bit OOC or whatever, I just adjust them to fit the needs of each chapter. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: hmmm lemme check… nope, still don't own the Thief Lord.

* * *

Hornet felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. Scipio was back? He was here? Her thoughts scattered. She had been looking forward to his return so much, but she had never thought of what she would do about it. Or what she would say! Poor Hornet wasn't even sure what she had done wrong. 

Thinking about this, Hornet calmed. What she needed was an explanation. Till she got it she could act normal. Unexcited to see the boy who'd kissed her and then disappeared for three days. Oh dear.

Still sitting on her mattress, Hornet cast her eyes back down at the ratty medical leaflet she had snagged outside a drug store. It was hopelessly dirty, but the pictures were clear enough to give her some guidance on how to set a broken arm. Footsteps- light skipping ones for Riccio and loud, steady ones for Scipio- came down the dim hallway behind Hornet.

She couldn't help herself, Hornet turned to look as Mosca called out a greeting. He and Riccio must have gone off to get their latest riches for they were nowhere to be seen. Instead the tall form of Scipio, the thief lord, stood in the doorway. And the thief lord he played. The black birdlike mask was in place; he wore a long dark coat, and stood tall. His chin was in the air a bit as he inspected his lair, looking haughty and controlled.

Scipio's eyes barely flickered when they passed over Hornet.

Feeling slightly like she had been slapped, Hornet sniffed, unimpressed, and went back to her leaflet.

"You've been gone a while, Skip," Hornet commented, pulling a perfect act of nonchalance. She could practically feel him stiffen behind her.

(A/N: yes, yes I know I used the incorrect nickname, but I need it right now! Besides, I'm almost positive that some kind of nickname was used by Hornet to bug Scipio in the book…)

"Don't call me that," he growled. Hornet raised her eyebrow at a particularly gruesome picture and shrugged. A sack hit the mattress beside her with a heavy thud.

"For me?" she asked, less than respectfully. Opening it, Hornet let out a real gasp. Inside it were _books_. Lots of them. Science texts, literature, sci-fi, Shakespeare; more than any Hornet had ever had before.

Stunned she looked back at Scipio. He still observed her with the same reserved gaze. Frustration welled up beneath Hornet's awe. Finally she couldn't take the silence.

"What is the matter with you?" she shouted, jumping to her feet. Whatever reaction Scipio was expecting, that certainly wasn't it.

"What do you mean what's the matter with me?" Scipio yelled back, his cool, unconcerned façade forgotten. Hornet threw her hands up in frustration.

"You KISS me, you run away, you HATE me, and NOW you're giving me BOOKS?" A little softer, she added, "Please just make up your mind." Scipio was staring at Hornet, mouth slightly open. He tried to talk once, twice, three times and failed. Hornet sighed and turned to go.

"Wait!" Hornet stopped, and held her breath. "I-I don't hate you," Scipio mumbled. When Hornet turned to face him, he slid off the mask and fiddled with it. "I shouldn't have done any of that. I'm sorry I kissed you. I'm really sorry I ran away." The poor boy was beet red, but an apology was an apology, Hornet decided. But one thing had to be said.

"You're sorry that you kissed me?" Hornet asked. Scipio nodded sullenly, staring at his feet. "Well," Hornet said softly as she picked her way towards the door, "I'm not." She glimpsed Scipio's head jerk up, eyes wide, and then Hornet left the theater.

* * *

A/N: on to the next chapter! Remember, reviews inspire and guilt me into updating! 


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Alrighty then. Slowly (oh so slowly) we approach the grand finale of this tale. i hope you like it so far. Remember, I need reviews. Advice, tips, plot ideas. Anything you have for me. I'm not exactly sure how I will wrap this up, but one way or another, it will be wrapped.

Disclaimer: _pssst_. PSSST! Did you hear? I don't own the Theif Lord. Shocking, I know….

The Venecian sunset, tourist euphoria, spread out over the city in an array of colors. Blinking against the rays, Hornet sat on the edge of an ancient fountain facing the dock. It was a beautiful evening, Hornet felt completely relaxed as she dangled her toes into the cool water. If only her mind would slow down a bit, stop thinking, it would be perfect.

But it wouldn't work like that. Emotions bubbled up inside her, fighting for control, each wanting to be felt at the exact same moment. It was a bit maddening.

Hornet shook her head, turning it slightly so she wasn't blinded. So why was she still here? Hornet wondered, continuing her inner debate. She had never stayed in one place longer then a day or two. Why stay in a place where things were so complicated? Sure it was a roof over her head, plenty of food, dry clothes, and books. But out on the streets there were no complications. No Scipio to kiss her and then act as if he didn't care.

Out there, it was all instinct. No thinking, just act and react. Always looking for your next meal, no time to remember what was past. What happens happens and a body's next move meant life or death.

The more Hornet thought about it, the more her mind was made up. Of course she would go back to the theater. It would be foolish to set out without taking advantage of the supplies that were there. Grab a sack get some things and be out before anyone realized her plan.

With a course of action in mind, Hornet's thoughts settled. She took a few more minutes to appreciate the few, then rolled down her pant legs and stuffed her feet into the boots she had found in the bag of clothes. Setting off at a leisurely pace, Hornet headed for the theater.

By the time she got back the sky had darkened considerably and stars peeked out from behind low clouds. Hornet, no more than a shadow, slipped into an ally and through the side door of the theater.

Mosca, predictable as ever, was fiddling with his new project, an old radio he had found on the street. He grinned and waved at Hornet as he shifted onto his stomach, peering into the gutted machine. She smiled back, a twinge of doubt entering her mind. Going back to the streets would mean leaving friends behind.

She continued along the rows of seats to her mattress. Out of the corner of her eye, Hornet noticed Scipio. He was sitting in a shadowed corner of the stage. Deep in thought, he didn't even seem to realize she was there. His head was bowed, dark hair swept across his eyes, hiding them.

A surprise awaited her at her mattress. Riccio lay across it, thumbing curiously through one of her new books. Hornet cleared her throat.

Riccio jumped, as if caught with his hands in a purse. Quickly he sat up, shoving the book as far away from him as he could.

"Er—hey Hornet," he said innocently. Scipio jerked his head up. "I was just uh… napping. Right, napping. Your mattress is much more--um--springy then mine." He trailed off, giving a few half-hearted bounces on the worn springs.

Hornet raised an eyebrow. "Springy?" He nodded enthusiastically. With a sigh Hornet shook her head and sat down next to him. "You know, you can read these books anytime you want. I don't mind." Riccio blushed a dull red and shook his head.

"No I can't." he mumbled. After a pause he added, so quietly Hornet had to lean in to hear him, "Can't read. The pictures are interestin' though." Hornet nodded in understanding.

After thinking for a moment, Riccio looked up in excitement. "But, you can read them right? Could ya teach me?" Hornet faltered. It would be so easy to lie, to say yes. But looking at his eager face, Hornet couldn't bear it. She would never forgive herself if she walked out on this promise.

"N-no Riccio. Not… not right now." Riccio's face fell and Hornet had to harden her heart to keep from crying. Looking up she saw Scipio looking intently at her, his face unreadable. Their eyes met, and Hornet felt as if he could read her mind, knew that she was going to run away. Shivering, she looked away and patted Riccio's shoulder, feeling the guilt crushing her. He gave her a weak smile and went to watch what Mosca was doing.

Pitching forward onto her bed, Hornet let out her breath in a long _whoosh_. She would get up before dawn, gather some supplies, and be out of there before anyone awoke. Simple. Painless. She would be on her own again. That was what she wanted.

Right?

A/N: A teensy bit longer…. Hopefully if the action ups in the next chapter it will be longer.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Alright, lets see, this chapter is pretty short and pretty crappy, but I felt I owed it to you guys to at least post something. Remember, school started so I'm swamped. Also I have major writer's block for this story. Just remember that I love you guys and I'm doing my best. Oh and also, I DO know that this story seems to take place in about a week. Please use your imaginations and pretend this could happen in real life.

Disclaimer: Somebody else must own the Thief Lord 'cause I sure as hell don't.

Every creak, every groan of an old floor board set Hornet on edge. Carrying her boots in one hand and her bag in the other, she took the quietest path she could through the ancient theater. It was late, so late in fact, it could be considered early. Hornet had not wanted to take any chances of leaving too early and being caught.

An inconveniently placed jacket entangled itself on Hornet's foot causing her to stumble. The noise was small but seemed to echo in the silence. Hornet froze, heart pounding. She needn't have worried. Riccio, she had learned, slept through near anything, and Mosca had been up late with his radio. He would be out till far after dawn.

Scipio didn't sleep in the theater. Slipping out sometime after Hornet fell asleep, the Thief Lord was out lurking. He was the one she had to look out for.

Finally Hornet crept out the side door, careful to open it only enough to slide through, so that the buzzer did not sound. Breathing more easily out in the open, Hornet strode through the streets of Venice. A week ago, these streets had been terrifying and hopelessly confusing. Now Hornet felt completely at home in them. It would be a shame to leave the city.

Moonlight silvered the world around her, turning crumbling fountains into works of art, the water splashing gently into the pools. Feeling like a child of the night, Hornet jumped up onto the lip of the fountain, straightened, and twirled. It felt so surreal, as if life truly was so beautiful. Walking along the ledge, she hopped off as it curved back around, and continued down another street.

A while later, euphoria dimmed a bit, Hornet stopped. She heard something. The sharp slap of sneakers on pavement. And louder was the clatter of boots.

"Stop thief!" a deep voice shouted. Hornet froze, looking wildly around her. Impact caught her off guard, sending her and the person who ran into her to the ground. Pushing up at the weight, Hornet caught a nose with the heel of her hand. A familiar grunt was issued above her.

"Scipio?"

"Hornet?" For a fraction of a second, Scipio's eyes widened in surprise, but another shout from behind them made him glance over his shoulder. Scrambling up, he dragged Hornet to her feet and pushed her into an ally. Sprinting, they flew through the dark. The situation felt ironically familiar to Hornet.

Finally the shouting behind them dimmed, their pursuer gave up. Panting Hornet leaned against the wall of the building behind her. Hands on his knees, Scipio gave a breathless laugh.

"Well that was fun." Hornet raised an eyebrow but Scipio just looked confused again. "What're you doing-?" Hornet saw his eyes fall on the bag she had dropped next to her and heard his sharp intake of breath. For reasons unknown to Hornet, she felt like crawling into the nearest hole and hiding. For reasons even less known to her, Scipio looked really sad. "You're leaving?" Hornet cast around for an excuse. _Oh this, no I was just, um, grocery shopping? At midnight…_ Hornet sighed. "Why?" The genuine hurt in his voice made Hornet look up. In the shadow of the ally, Scipio's eyes were hidden. Pushing back her bangs, Hornet wondered at herself. Just this afternoon, she had been so ready to get out of there, now one friendship and two guys giving her puppy-dog eyes made her completely unsure.

"Because," she said. Scipio's eyebrows rose.

"Because?"

"Yea, because," Hornet said. She picked up her bag and started walking away. Hornet would spend the rest of her life wondering why she wheeled back around. "Because, I'm just one girl, Scipio! I-I don't know what you want from me, but I just can't take this anymore." Hornet felt trapped, breathing in short quick gasps. "Please, if kissing me was a mistake then I'll go right now. If not-," Hornet swallowed. "I just need to know." Standing there in front of him, emotionally drained and exhausted from being so on edge, she waited.

Scipio took a hesitant step forward, then another, till he was a few feet in front of her. He lifted his hand towards her as if reaching for Hornet, then lowered it, unsure. A moment later, he growled in frustration and closed the distance between them. Scipio's lips crashed into hers, his hand on her shoulder.

"It wasn't a mistake. I was just too stupid to realize it," he said, drawing back a little. Hornet felt flushed, her heart beat wildly as he came towards her again, this time more gently. Hands on her waist, Scipio held her in a way she never had been before, and as infuriating as he had been the past few days, Hornet felt that she couldn't pull away, couldn't stop. Her arm wrapped around his neck, wound her fingers in his hair.

The bag dropped back to the ground, forgotten.

A/N: heh. Hope you didn't hate it. Just so you know, this is a story about one boy's extreme lack of confidence and one girl's extreme confusion. Well… something like that anyway. Oh, and I NEED YOUR HELP! How the heck should I end this story? I have an idea, but your input would help a lot. Till next time—PEACE!


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